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Lyrics:MTV Get Off The Air Part 2
by MC Paul Barman (featuring Princess Superstar) MC Paul Barman A little goon in a locker room Rat-tails the octaroon He'll be drinking vodka soon And his big brothers are frat guys Whose IQs lose to their fitted baseball hat size Smirkin' jocks with Hacky Sacks In Birkenstocks and khaki slacks I'm the hypest lyricist While they're like, "What type of beer is this?" The liquid is ubiquitous And has such a hold On all the strata, it's just got to be Government controlled Behind the bottle and the throne Sits an unknown man wiser And bigger for the liquor store The number one franchise or Perhaps George Bush and his sons Are relatives of Anheuser I wanted to get in a pooper hole one day so I invited girls over on Super Bowl Sunday only one showed up: Princess Superstar. Princess Superstar: Thanks for inviting me over let me look around the bed post (bad dill folds?) back to back black dildos Nice kit, kudos Pass the cool ranch Doritos I love nachos Put on Fat Joe Naw, that really sucks, let's put on the Beatles Yo, let's check the halftime show I hope it's Michael Jackson Singin Satisfaction with Hanson or Luther Vandross in a sparkling costume with big pants dancin or maybe I saw that in a Bud Light commercial speakin' of which, give this bitch a drink quick to wet my lips you got enough cheddar lyin' around this place to fix up my tits as if I need it... MC Paul Barman: Conchetta, please! If you see any "chedda'", It's cheddar cheese I'm easily great I don't need to be in some sort of Ken Kesey state to create something you can appreciate Princess Superstar: Who are you talkin to? MC Paul Barman: Makin you draw conclusions And superficial distinctions make you go sacre bleu Princess Superstar: I can speak French, too Suck my nuh-nuh French my cunt Comprende voux? Look Pepé Le Pew, Let's cut to the (de nu-mon?) You wanna fuck me, I wanna fuck you So it's on. MC Paul Barman: Can I chime in? I'll still be rhymin' When I'm in your hymen I radiate like it was '88 And I'm searching for my lady mate I'm a hunter-gatherer A cunter-latherer My dandy voice makes the most anti-choice Granny's panties moist I do the new when the tried and true fails Plus I'm lookin' fly in my sky blue tails Now peel off your tube top So I can feel your boobs flop on my lubed cock Socks up to your calf like a chick from The Craft I wanna put on a serrated condom and saw you in half Princess Superstar: My knees are weak, I need knee-pads You fucked me blind, I can't see, dag! Run me a hot bath add the Epsom salt Soak my lower half in your Mortal Kombat cocktail sauce Let me head south Put it in my mouth Cause I like the taste. MC Paul Barman: When I burst in your face I'll invade your personal space Princess Superstar: I'm like Chase, stick your card in and out Thanks see, look how much stacks of cream are coming out MC Paul Barman: I removed her sanitary napkin with my teeth And there was a planetary backspin underneath I faced her wound Let's do a pap smear with a taster spoon You can sleep on the guest cot I'll sleep in the wet spot (Singing) I'll be your boyfriend Smooch on your pooper hole All through the Super Bowl Your man doesn't even miss you Glued to the boob tube, watchya gonna do, dude? I woke up sticky And quickly applied a temporary tattoo to a hickey Went to softly shake her awake With orange juice, a straw, and coffee cake After we had a bite, We pushed the canoe in the lake Princess Superstar: You don't paddle right MC Paul Barman: Look, a shooting star! Princess Superstar: It's a fuckin satellite MC Paul Barman: Lady, one more complaint And I'll shove a rape-whistle up the Mrs. Va-Jay-Jay (starts whistling) Princess Superstar: What'd you say?!?! Listen Slim Shay-day, Tell Dre he better fuckin pay may (me) (starts laughing) MC Paul Barman: Your talents are bite-sized It's no suprise you rhyme with white guys I jumped in the water What did I want a girlfriend for? Just like you, you jizz on your floor. I don't want sweet potatoes anymore I didn't even leave her an oar Did a medium crawl stroke back to shore Who's next to flirt with this exhausting extrovert? I parted some palm fronds Guess who left me dry long johns? Uncle Ralph McDaniels He said "What's up Paul Nathaniel Barman? Let's get MTV off the air, I deserve my own channel." Category:Lyrics